This is where you’ll find a living archive of my projects, the work I’ve done with clients, and chonicles of my adventures as I change the world.
I’m a Miami-based photographer + brand strategist focused on defying the odds and telling the dopest stories for clients who are interested in doing the same.
I believe stories are the vehicles that move culture forward and there’s nothing more important today than strengthening cultural integrity across the arts, urban environments, fashion, and hospitality.
029 Food For Thought:What Structure Teaches Us About Longevity
DOC 4-20-2025
Curiosity: Why do some things seem like they were built to last and others don’t? Category: Food for Thought
I never realized how common brutalist building were in South Florida until I started taking public transportation here. These Brutalist Monuments of stone, shadow, and silence bring strength and safety to the environment. They don’t yell out for your attention; their presence demands it. These structures hold space physically and provoke you emotionally by simply existing.
That’s the thing about brutalist structures. They’re the kind of structures that feel like they’ve been waiting for you since the dawn of time and are built to outlast our imaginations.
Thinking about this made me curious...
Why do some things, buildings, brands, and photographs feel like they’ve been built to last, while others feel disposable from inception?
The answer can’t just be in the materials.
It has to be in the conviction that precedes the form.
That would mean that structures of any kind exist to give you deeper insight into the philosophy of their creators than they exist to adhere to an aesthetic of any kind. Structure doesn’t happen by accident, it happens by belief. And that belief is visible far before it is attached to materials.
Structure Is Conviction Realized In Physical Form
The architect Louis Kahn once said, “Even a Brick wants to be something.” Again, we see the philosophy of the creator being expressed even in the materials. For Louis Kahn, materials want to become something meaningful. From there, construction becomes a meaningful pursuit through discipline and devotion.
That’s at least what we see with the greats.
Craft, when stripped of ego and trend, becomes conviction realized in physical forms. This means structures, whether a building or a brand, hold that conviction in place and anchor it into reality.
Those less acquainted with this distinction will muddy the waters and attempt to convince you that all created things are weighed equally when that couldn’t be further from the truth. Not everything created to endure is designed or built to last, and that’s the difference.
I think about that when I photograph subjects.
It’s always deeper than how things look to me. When I’m taking a picture, I’m trying to frame what they believe about themselves and the world around them.
When I’m working with brands with weight, brands that are building for something beyond the quarter and the wide variety of feeds, it’s always the same cues:
A sense of rhythm
Visual restraint
Emphasis on material, not embellishment
Trust in silence
The feelings of endurance and longevity they emit wont come from their aestheitcs. It will be their structures. We see these themes in the worlds built by brands across industries. The same discipline that brings something like a brutalist building into existence is what gives a brand its gravity in culture.
The Cultural Language of Longevity
There’s a difference between marketing a business and building a brand. It’s a small nuance, yet an important one.
One seeks attention. The other seeks alignment.
The first performs for an audience. The second invites you into a worldview.
Look at pgLang. Sure, it’s a record label, but it doesn’t perform like one. pgLand exists like an entity itself with its code of conduct. Its conversations are articulate in minimalism, symbolism, and mystery. Every font, every frame, the way space is played with, and paces are accented by pauses in campaigns communicates intentional restraint.
It’s structured.
It’s not trying to explain anything about itself to the audience. It’s designed to be felt by those who are aligned with the philosophy that it embodies. It’s being built to attract those who resonate with the conviction that anchors it in our existence. pgLang doesn’t give you any reason to believe it’s disposable or limited to the current timeline.
We see the same thing with Bode. Nothing about Bode adheres to the current doctrine that more is merrier. Nothing is done in mass. Everything is curated with an almost ominous sense of finality, which, ironically, implies a permanence that feels intentional. The same can be said for Jerry Lorenzo’s Fear of God. Even tech-adjacent brands like Bang & Olufsen or Apple’s early era weren’t obsessed with “storytelling” in the more modern performative sense. They structured systems of belief, repeated with borderline monastic consistency.
Cultural longevity, then, is a design decision?
What materials are chosen, what forms the structures take, the accessories or features that make the final presentation, a collection of elements picked to reinforce the conviction that underwrites its form.
The continuity then becomes a rhythm that echoes outward to those who come in contact with it.
Which then means the created thing is the delivery mechanism.
This is less shouting and hoping to draw in whoever hears you, and more humming at a specific frequency and attracting those tuned to hear you. It takes conviction to choose the latter.
I’ve noticed these cues everywhere, not just in iconic brands, but in how small curated moments are often far more potent than their alternative.
This past weekend, I was invited to photograph another small wellness event co-hosted by Iris Supplements and Visp, two wellness brands in the same category, occupying the same room, and yet collaborating instead of competing.
Remember what I said about worldview?
No, it wasn’t a campaign.
There was no major launch announcement, no extensive hashtag strategy, no publicist group artificially curating the vibe. Just two groups of 10-15 women, a megaformer class, and intimate conversations about health, discipline, creating together, and showing up as your best self.
Here, the structure wasn’t in the space, it was in the energy.
Founders present. No distance. No separation between brand and audience.
Just presence punctuated with an opportunity to embody the same conviction that created the brand guests were invited to indulge in.
Longevity Demands a Different Rhythm
And that’s contrary to what is trending. Today, we’re conditioned for speed and consistent movement. You must post quickly, iterate constantly, and always chase.
But things that last don’t follow that same protocol.
They exist within a rhythm that teaches you how to engage, indulge, and understand your feelings about it. This is the power behind structure.
Structure sets the tempo.
That tempo then creates memories.
Those memories become meaning.
And meaning is what endures.
But we already know this right?
The brands we admire didn’t become timeless by accident. They became timeless because they were built with intention, repetition, conviction, and restraint.
Even brutalist architecture wasn’t exclusively about spectacle.
It was also about holding humanity at scale.
These structures were designed to serve life, not just to impress people.
I think about this a lot in regards to my own work. When I build for clients, whether through photography, visual direction, or brand architecture and strategy, I’m not trying to make them louder. I’m focused on helping them become clearer.
No trend chasing.
Everything focused on drawing out their greatest convictions so that it can breathe life into their structures.
For Those Building Structures
Structure is conviction made tangible.
It’s what allows you to show up again and again without losing your clarity.
It’s what makes someone return to your brand not because it surprised them, but because it centered them.
It’s building for the future based on belief and not trends.
It’s designing something that lasts because you believe it should.
If you’re creating structures and not just making things to impress people, this is the kind of work I’m here to lend my skills and experience to. The kind of presence I’m here to photograph. The kind of clarity I’m here to build with you.
Read more food for thought like this in the workshop
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